Fate Emiya Shirou
by Eveon
Summary: Fate is fickle and irony is a driving force of the world.  Heroic Spirit Emiya is finally free after successfully killing himself but he and more importantly his contract still exist.  To what lengths must he go before he can escape the clutches of Fate?
1. Prologue I

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fate Stay Night, property of Nasu and Type Moon.**

**Well, this is the first time in a long time so I might as well write while I still have momentum. Don't expect updates though since this is the latest in a long line of plot bunnies I never end up writing. It's a peggy sue fic of sorts. I really wanted to write this in third person but after reading FSN as source material, I tend to do first person unintentionally. The prologue is in third person but the chapters might be in first person.**

Fate is fickle and irony is one of the driving forces of this world. Archer knew this best being one of the counter guardian who hailed from the Throne of Heroes. The cursed Throne of Heroes that would allow him no rest.

He measured his existence by his vast memories that spanned eternity. Time was irrelevant for him. He had no idea how many millions of conflicts he had resolved. Unfortunately, the only form of resolution he offered was extermination. He could not offer death or mercy. Those were too lenient in the face of the threats he erased. A small war that would eventually encompass the world, a counter guardian would slaughter both sides before the conflict expanded. A conceptual weapon that would create a zombie apocalypse, a counter guardian would blow it up along its creator and many innocents. Guided by the world, he erased all threats against humanity. That was what a counter guardian did.

He only cleaned up messes already made, unable to prevent them for all time. It was in accordance with his principles. Kill one to save ten, ten to save a hundred, hundred to save a thousand. But at the moment, he slaughtered by the billions to save trillions more. His principles be damned because this was not what he wanted. His ideal was to prevent conflict before it occurs and save everyone, be they victim or villain. This was not what he signed up for.

Perhaps a small blessing, while under the world's command he could not think. Had he had conscious thought, the blood on his hands would have driven him into madness.

His only reprieve were moments like this. The holy grail war in Fuyuki city. As Servant Archer, he was nearly himself. However, even at moments like this, he did not dare access his memories.

It was cowardly, but he did not care. He knew he could probably resolve everything, Rin, Rider, Sakura, Saber, everything, if he access his records of past wars but it was too painful. He did not want to be a counter guardian any longer. If Shirou died by his hands, Archer would be free. The time paradox created by killing himself would erase Emiya Shirou's existence and remove him from the cursed throne.

At least that was his hope. He had not checked his memories to see if he had ever succeeded in the 'past'. His sanity was based on the small hope that he could finally be free. He had told Rin the truth, he did not remember his true identity. It wasn't because he could not, but rather he was no longer willing.

A blow swept towards his left side. His twin Chinese falchions were already in place. They intercepted the axesword's blow and softened it before he used its momentum to jump back and out of the way.

A flash of premonition or an echo of the past. Archer suddenly knew the killing blow would come next. He would be defeated. This was the curse of his experience. Mind's Eye earned from hard work. It was almost like Saber's Instinct and perhaps even greater in some ways. But it wasn't true instinct, he could not react fast enough against new situations especially when fighting someone as fast and strong as Berserker. Servant Archer was supposed to be a ranged fighter anyways. He had to keep his distance.

Distance that did not exist. He was already in Berserker's range. The gray giant raised its arm hefting its weapon high. Archer could predict the first attack but not the following. Berserker was his worst match up.

Archer's fighting style had no pride. It depended on guiding an opponent's attacks towards holes purposefully left in his defence. By knowing where he would be attacked, Archer could defend and counter. But Berserker in his madness attacked without reason aiming at the general vicinity of the target without regard for Archer's openings. Berserker's blows were also too strong to block and too fast to counter. And worst of all, Archer's usual weapons were ineffective against Berserker's God Hand. He had to dig deep into his armoury to bring forth various A ranked weapons that he would not usually use due to their large prana requirement and even a couple specially altered 'arrows' to be used as broken phantasms.

Berserker's attack finally came. The axesword dropped down blows like a waterfall. Archer managed to slide through most of them using his trusty twin Chinese falchions to deflect each blow slightly at the cost of his projections shattering. But one managed to clip his left arm. Even that glancing blow conveyed enough impact to shatter bones and render the entire arm useless. His elbow would no longer bend.

He would die here, Berserker would go after Rin, Shirou, and Saber but at least they had a fighting chance. Shirou and Saber would complete their ritual or Saber would contract with Rin. Either case would prevent him from having to target his beloved Illya. Had he aimed his blade at Illya from the start even as a distraction, he might have achieved victory but he never did. He was on his last leg, and yet berserker still had seven lives.

The records. If he had accessed them, he might be able to win but would his sanity endure? As his life in the role of Archer approached its end, he asked himself this question as he usually did. There wasn't enough time to access the records anyways. There will always be a next time. In the 'past' he had always decided he had done enough and even if he choose differently, he would die before his decision made a difference.

Fate was fickle. Emiya Shirou still had things to do.

At that moment, in his adrenaline induced false clarity, Archer tripped and Berserker missed taking off Archer's head by a millimetre. The blade came to rest pressed against Archer's neck. Because Archer's will to fight had completely disappeared, Berserker sensed no more threats. The gray giant with its weapon at Archer's neck opted to look for the other three targets before finishing Archer off.

This accident opened another path. Archer accessed the records. His Mind's Eye quickly processed and integrated a seemingly infinite amount of experience. Each holy grail war, Archer did things a little differently, learned new ways to use his various noble phantasms and acquired new experiences. Counter Guardian Emiya while mostly mindless also invented some new ruthless techniques. Most importantly, Archer's arsenal suddenly increased in size gaining many new weapons. His armoury had not changed. The weapons stored in his reality marble remained the same but he was suddenly aware of thousands of weapons that he had not known himself to possess.

Unfortunately, along with his new strength, Archer gained a lot more angst and insanity. He was suddenly stronger but he also wanted to kill his past self with much greater fervour. He almost gave himself to unbridled bloodlust. He simply really truly wanted to kill his past self NOW before he forgot. Because disgustingly, in several wars, his past self convinced him his ideal weren't wrong, and in several other wars, his past self decided sex with Sakura was worth more than the world. Of course, there was nothing wrong with Sakura. In fact, Sakura was wonderful, Archer liked her quite a bit himself and would save her if he could. But those wayward thoughts were immediately discarded for interfering with his megalomaniacal plotting to kill his past self.

He quickly analyzed his situation. Illya was ranting and gloating at him because she knew he was at her mercy. Was she always this cute? Her soft silky white hair and radiant red eyes. She was so full of life and her happiness was almost infectious. Or would have been except her happiness was based on Berserker defeating him. She was demanding his identity before she had him put down. And had his arsenal not expanded, he would have been put down for certain. Dying got in the way of killing Emiya Shirou, thus dying was bad. Surviving Berserker might not be easy but it was best to kill Emiya Shirou while he was still motivated. As things were, he only had a few seconds to make a plan.

_Trace On._

Numerous blades were lined up. Even with his expanded arsenal, he would only have one chance to take down Berserker. Several plans were lined up and contingencies were prepared for contingencies. He left nothing to chance, he never did. His primary plan had a 68 percent chance of success but it would depend on his ability to fast talk Illya and Rin.

Archer exchanged his trademark smirk for a gentle smile, the smile of a brother towards his sister. Letting a bit of resignation show along with a bit of his true feeling for her, Archer made his appeal, "Lady Illyasviel von Einzbern, your Berserker is truly strong. He is as strong as you are beautiful. I am hoping for a small mercy. I wish to say goodbye to my master. Think of it as a request from a dying man. It is fine if I remain in this position, even if I do not, you have Berserker. He would not lose to my three companions in their current state."

Archer told no lies putting only his true feeling on the line. He didn't admit to being defeated and he didn't mention that Saber could defeat Berserker once she recovered. Illyasviel blushed but as Archer expected and as her pride demanded, Illyasviel refused. "Why should I? Mysterious Servant-san, my Berserker defeated you. I can take your life first and relay your goodbye personally."

But Archer wasn't dead yet. "Think of it as an act of kindness. I will tell you about myself, about that boy, and about your father. Please." With more earnestness than his entire lifetime as Archer, the proud Counter Guardian begged one of the girls he would never willingly harm.

Illyasviel's lips pressed into a line and her eyes narrowed for a moment. The mention of her father angered her. Archer almost thought his plan had failed. But Illyasviel's curiosity drove her away from her dislike of _that man_. She wanted to know about this mysterious Servant. She also wanted to know his connection to _that man_ since he implied some form of knowledge or acquaintanceship. He knew that the one who raised the boy was _that man_. She hated _that man_. But she did not hate the boy. In fact, she might even like the boy. The boy was hers. Perhaps this mysterious Servant should also be hers? He wasn't too bad when he fought Berserker. Archer was stronger than he looked and possessed many Noble Phantasms even if she could not identify him. She just needed to kill the Tohsaka heir first.

With those thoughts in mind, she played into Archer's plan. "Very well, make it quick Archer. I will give you thirty seconds while I decide your fate."

The first of four steps was complete.

Archer relaxed. He had never been so tense before but his desire to kill Shirou drove him with a desperation he had never known. He sought his connection to Rin in his mind and upon finding it opened a channel.

'_Rin, I cannot hold Berserker anymore and am about to be defeated. It appears that you can no longer be my master. I am sorry._'

'_Archer! Idiot, RUN! Don't leave me._'

'_I am sorry. But, even though I am close to death. You have one last command spell. If you give the command Defeat Berserker, I believe I can take him out before we part._'

Archer told no lies. Once Rin used up her last command spell, she would no longer be his master even if he defeated Berserker.

'_ARCHER! Don't do this. Run away._' Archer could almost feel her tears and it choked him but he could not turn back. Emiya Shirou must die.

'_Berserker is faster than me. There's no time. NOW or I die._'

And suddenly power floods him along with an impulse to defeat Berserker, regardless of God Hand, layered lives and everything else.

The second of four steps was complete. His plan now had a ninety percent chance of success.

First Archer made a swarm of A rank blades, most of them weren't even Noble Phantasms. They rained down from behind Berserker like arrows, bullet speed arrows. Berserker sensed the threat they represented and turned to swat them away with his weapon. Illyasviel screamed in the background while Archer hardened his heart because he could not afford to do less.

The moment Berserker started his motion to defend from behind. Caliburn was in Archer's right hand and thrusting towards Berserker's head. Even as a ranked down copy, it was an A rank Noble Phantasm greater than most Noble Phantasms even originals could ever hope to be. He would have used this proud Noble Phantasm against Berserker earlier except he had avoided it due to Saber. Her presence reminded him of his life as Emiya Shirou and how important she was to him. He cared too much for Saber to tarnish her blade with his lack of pride. However, killing Emiya Shirou had suddenly become a higher priority.

With miraculous speed fuelled by a command spell, Caliburn easily pierced through Berserker's head. With some leverage, Archer created a hole. Normally this would stop Berserker for only a second but Archer did not need a second.

His broken left arm reinforced and merged with Gae Buidhe slid along the blade of Caliburn plunging into Berserker's open skull. Gae Buidhe, the Golden Rose of Mortality, was a cursed spear that belonged to the Lancer of the fourth holy grail war. It inflicted wounds that could not be healed naturally or through magecraft and manifested this effect to a greater extent than even Gae Bolg. In exchange it lacked Gae Bolg's ability to pierce the heart with every strike. Gae Buidhe was the lynch pin of Archer's plan and one of the Noble Phantasms he gained moments ago from accessing his records. God Hand's effect was stronger than a traced Gae Buidhe but Archer had included that into his calculations. A Servant's battle was a matter of Rank and Noble Phantasms, but a magus fought with concepts. By keeping his hand and Gae Buidhe in Berserker's brain, Archer could keep the gray giant from healing and functioning in general. As a Servant rather than a spirit, even Berserker needed a brain to move.

The entire sequence accelerated by a command spell took place in a tiny fraction of a second. It was too one-sided to be a fight and too fast to be a confrontation between mortals. Even so, the Berserker had managed to swat away an entire rain of forty A ranked swords before Archer disabled him. The rain of swords was originally supposed to kill Berserker while he was disabled.

One life. Archer had just defeated one life. Gae Buidhe was not high enough rank to do anything except prevent the wound inflicted by Caliburn from healing. His left hand was stuck in Berserker's skull and the mighty Servant still had seven lives left. Despite this, Archer had already won. Against the undefeatable giant, who could take down most Servants without losing a single life, Archer had won. His hand was in Berserker's brain, disabling the Greek hero.

The third of four steps had been complete. Other than a small one percent chance of Archer making a mistake, victory was his.

But even in that state, Berserker was merely disabled, not defeated. The moment Archer removes his hand from Berserker's brain matter, the mad Servant would regenerate and slaughter Archer with ease. The command to defeat Berserker burned fiercely through Archer. He had already executed the difficult part.

There was only cleanup left. Caliburn disappeared from Archer's right hand already useless having pierced Berserker's skin once. Archer then picked out a suitable trick from his memories, he analyzed and traced the gray giant's current weapon, the enormous axesword.

_Trace On._

Archer is not Emiya Shirou, even if Shirou cannot reproduce it perfectly, he can. His entire body is reinforced to the limits first. He could not afford to screw up because he had very little prana left. He still needed to kill Emiya Shirou.

Thus he reproduced it perfectly, because he refused to fail, even Servant Berserker's strength, his weapon, and most importantly his technique. Within the axesword is a hidden treasure, it is the higher than A rank conceptual Noble Phantasm known as Nine Lives. Because it is imparted to every weapon wielded by the great Heracles, Archer could reproduce the Greek hero's power flawlessly.

_...Trigger Off._

Archer took aim.

"Set... "

Using his right hand, Archer puts it all into one blow. Berserker held unmoving by his left hand, while his right breaks past the sound barrier. Collarbone, windpipe, diaphragm, cervical vein, liver, spine, groin, kidney. Eight strikes and finally expending the last power of the command spell, Archer slams the nameless axesword into Berserker's heart. He had wanted to explode the weapon with prana for good measure but Illya's scream cut through and he could not bring himself to do it. Berserker was already dead.

"Nine Lives Blade Works."

His plan was complete. The body of the behemoth did not fade. For an instant, Archer thought he had failed. All servants should dissolve after defeat but the gray giant headless and ripped asunder remained standing. Perhaps Heracles's will to protect had achieved a miracle leaving his body behind to guard Illya. But Berserker was truly defeated, Archer could no longer feel the presence of his fellow Servant.

As he confirmed Berserker's death, Rin's last command spell faded, along with their connection. The backlash almost collapsed Archer to his knees. His heart ached badly. A sobbing heart broken Illya forced herself unintentionally into his awareness. For a moment, he would soak in his victory. He needed the brief respite before the next _Act_ of his desperation.

He would also need to have a long talk with Illya. He wasn't looking forward to it.

After killing Berserker, things happened. By the end of it, Archer finally for the first time managed to kill Emiya Shriou.

The time paradox occurred as he expected and the World became aware of a glitch in its system.

He could feel it. Archer was convinced he would be wiped out of existence for once and for all. Now, everything would end as he desired. He felt at peace as he felt himself fading away. He was so tired and he wanted rest.

'_In fact, even being a counter guardian wouldn't be so bad if the damn World would allow him some rest._'

Fate is fickle.

Emiya Shirou killed Emiya Shirou. But if Emiya Shirou killed Emiya Shirou, he would not grow up to kill himself. Therefore there are two Emiya Shirou since one killed the other. However, there can only be one Emiya Shirou. Contain and dispose corruption. Emiya Shirou, master of Saber, is Emiya Shriou. Eject Emiya from Fuyuki. Archer, Servant Emiya and Counter Guardian Emiya, is Emiya Shirou. Ejected Emiya from Fuyuki and the Throne of Heroes. Delete all copies of Emiya Shirou.

For a moment things went as Archer predicted but an unexpected problem came up. Reality started to collapse.

The non-existence of Emiya Shirou created as big a problem as a time paradox. In response, the World in its infinite apathy performed a desperate stop gap measure.

Initiate stop gap. Freeze dimensional current. Reverse previous procedure. Recover all copies of Emiya Shirou. Gjn CVX. Re-establish Emiya contract. Insert at moment of creation. Dimensional anomaly stabilized. Restart dimensional current.

Reality was saved but Emiya was resurrected and haphazardly displaced. In other words, at the end of the fourth holy grail war.

Irony is a driving force of the world. Archer had become Emiya Shirou once more. Had Archer been aware of his fate, he would have screamed, cried, and railed at the unfairness of it all.

Too bad Emiya, seems you won't be getting any rest. The fifth holy grail war still awaits. But at least you've escaped the Throne of Heroes... for now.


	2. Prologue II

**A/N: I didn't edit this properly... wrote it while half drunk. I'll probably edit it eventually but I felt like posting it before the new year. This chapter is also another prologue of sorts before the first official arc. It's in first person because F/SN was in first person. I didn't like the way it turned out. Wanted to see whether to write in first or third person perspective. Next chapter will be third person since first person is both tiring and harder to write.**

Pain.

The first thing in my awareness was pure physical agony.

All my other senses were blotted out with incessant pain. I tasted pain, smelled pain and saw pain. My entire existence was pain.

Despite this, I continued on knowing salvation would come. Because this could only ever be a memory, an echo of the past.

But before I could finish that thought and clear my mind, a deep throbbing pounded into my head wiping it clear of thought. Instinctively, my teeth tightened gritting against each other with enough strength to make my gums bleed.

I was no stranger to pain. In that shed, every night, I trained my magic by performing the mental equivalent of shoving a steel rod up my spine. In that cluttered space better described as a garage than a workshop, my nerves would burn and burn until my entire body was numb. Later, I had my heart pierced by a cursed lance and my body nearly cut in half by an axe-sword.

So I refuse to give up against something as insignificant as pain. Drawing heavily upon my past experience, I managed to dull the pain of this memory to tolerable levels.

And yet my past experience could not compare to this. This was an impossible pain that penetrated every fiber of my body. As if I were being subjected to every crime, every sin, and then being punished for it.

The scene seems familiar, nostalgic even. Moments stretched to eternity as I vaguely remember running away from the excessive heat. The pulse of prana in my flesh slightly shielded me. Whereas a normal human would have melted, I am merely burnt.

My body was practically dead. Every inch of my skin was already blistered. Somehow, I was aware of this but...

_Static..._

I stand on top of a hill. I am king of this world and this world represents the one true sword, because this world is me, the very manifestation of my soul. I am egotistical to think this but if there is one sword that defines all swords then that sword is me. Yet somehow, there is a darkness, a strange foreign heat, not quite a flame, that was attempting to invade my personal world of fire, brimstone, and sharpened steel. Now that I look closely, some part even look weak and brand new. The world almost looked larger than before. An area at the edge of my domain was strangely flooded, while another patch had been overrun by prairie. A yellow sun hung over the grassland but was unable to fully penetrate the eternal twilight of my world. I accepted those strange aberrations as part of me but there is something else here. A beast that is trying to consume me out of jealousy and spite. It is familiar and at the edge of my recollection. But its presence distracts me and prevents me from remembering.

_Static..._

As I ran, I saw deformed bodies all around me. They are not what I am. They have no magic circuits or at least not enough to provide salvation. The place I woke up had no bodies because they had all dissolved. Strangely, I realize that last time around, I had been burnt so badly that I could not run, but this time my motions weren't so hindered. A slight gratification fills me as I realize I am better off this time around.

Yet being more fortunate than those around me did not give me any comfort. Perhaps it gave comfort to the little child inside of me and that did grant me a strange relief. But _I_ am being crushed under heavy layers of sorrow. Sorrow like snow.

_Static..._

It is snowing in my world. Snow covers everything or at least tries to. But the strange foreign heat melts the snow like everything else even the relief of the little child. Slowly everything burnt away. The lovely prairie in the distance is drying out and turning brown. There are only a few patches of living green left, the patches that had been inadvertently protected by the snow. The very loss of this snow and greenery causes me yet more sorrow. And the snow falls more heavily. It is a strange unending cycle that unwittingly defends against the heat. This defence is only possible for demons, elementals, and the inhuman... yet it was also possible for me, because I am a sword. According to a wise man, I am little better than a partial facsimile of man. My few friends are sad because of this but I do not understand. So I distanced myself from them to try and alleviate their sadness. Some of them tried to stay but eventually I left them all behind. Until I stood alone on this very hill amidst my sea of swords.

_Static..._

I do not see any humans. Humans do not melt and deform like wax dolls in an oven. Those that do not have magic circuits are already dead. And those that have magic circuits are all beyond any hope of saving.

But at the same time, a deep seated sadness causes a hollow feeling inside of me. But I will not allow it. I have already noticed. The emotions that are melted away by this strange heat are gone forever. I will have to regain them some other time. Fortunately, this mocking red scenery provides an endless supply of sorrow to shield me but I must escape soon... before I forget who I am.

And then I stumbled. Who am I? A cacophony of memories assault me but through it all, I manage to retrieve a name. Even stuck in this body, even stuck inside this hell. I am Shirou Emiya. This time. This time, I will use this great hollow strength of mine, forged from many regret and suffering to protect that small patch of greenery within me. Without meaning to, I run more prana through my body and attempt to reinforce the patches of living grassland somehow sequestered in my barren world of swords. And then there was pain.

_Static..._

Swords were sprouting! They were sprouting amongst the emerald patches. They were damaging the tall grass in a futile attempt to save them. I gather my will and try to reverse the damage but I could not. And so I decide to sacrifice the already dead grassland to shield the green. Gears turn in the sky and giant swords sprout up from the ground to form peculiar steel tent that together with the snow shield the remaining green from the heat.

I cannot reinforce the greenery. At least not as I normally do. I can't just direct my own power, the power of swords to a place it does not belong, or else that place will implode in sharp steel shards. Instead, I somehow awaken something from long ago, something that I do not even remember ever possessing. At first there were only two, just like back when I first started with sword affinity magic. My nerves feel like they are on fire and I am walking beside death. I feel a strange sense of fear that I have never experienced before. But I am already close to death so I do not pay it any mind. I may not that experienced this particular fear before but I have experienced similar fear. A flash of red appears in my mind, together with a sweet scent and the brunette locks of a lovely young lady. She too is a magus. Her lifeblood splattered onto the walls and I am unable to save her. There is a chance she could save herself but that is not certain. I am afraid. I am afraid that she will die and I will not be able to save her. Because if she had not chosen to help me, she would not have been hurt. I am afraid to proceed. But I must. So I push through and from two, the prana spreads and intrudes until I have five. The pain hammers into me. I am on the ground involuntarily. My body convulses and spasms against my will. But this is the only way. And from those five, my power spreads until all twenty-seven are awake. And the convulsions stop and I fall into blessed darkness.

_Static..._

I woke up to the sensation of hot dirt and rock against my face. My body weighed down on me. And my barely functioning awareness was invaded by great dismay. I had lost consciousness! That was unforgivable. Everything up until now could have been lost. I felt tears well up unwillingly in my eyes. The greenery was beautiful. I did not want to lose it. I wished that my barren world filled only with swords would sprout with new life. And then I realized it. My tears, a manifestation of selfishness that represented the childish greenery within. I had managed to save that child who died when Shirou Emiya was born. Perhaps now, I could finally give up my ideal of being a hero. The child within would marvel at his fortune and learn to live for those lost instead of sacrificing himself upon the alter of that ideal.

My weariness quickly became apparent to me when I realized my mind had wandered. I was still in the domain of the hellish heat and fire. Though I have escaped from the worst region near the epicenter at the park, I am still far from salvation. My circuits, more numerous than ever before, hummed with barely restrained power that had kept me safe from the corrosive environment.

I realized that I was being stupid. I merely needed to separate myself from the outside. And within my arsenal, though only temporary, I had just the conceptual weapon for the task. One sort moment later, I held an enormous burial shroud in cardinal red. It was the cloth from which Archer made his signature outfit to prevent magical interference from the outside world. It seemed a lot larger than before due to the small size of my six year old body and its redness wrapped comfortably around me like an oversized cloak. Immediately, a coolness settled on me and my thought cleared. The wrongness and the scent of death was still strong in the air but from underneath the shroud, I could barely feel the drain.

And with my new found clarity, I reinforce my body against the heat and once again stumble away from the park where grail manifested.

I now know the true nature of my enemy. It was the perverted darkness of the Fuyuki grail. The taint of Angra Mainyu, all the evils in the world.

And yet it is just that. Merely a taint rather than the true body. The gate to the grail had been sealed off for another 10 years by the light of Excalibur. The small amount of grail-matter that had escaped caused this horrendous fire in which I... and a few others... were the only survivors. Because only a magus could survive in this hell and not even a magus could survive if they had been touched by the grail itself. Even if hypothetically a magus managed to survive touching the grail, they would die slowly from its horrid curse like father, Emiya Kiritsugu.

I have suffered from this before at least twice that I remember and in my time as a counter guardian, I should have encounter similar things. Perhaps this is another one of those experiences. But why am I here? And why am I in a six year old body. It did not make sense. My last memories were...

_Static..._

I watch as a new era settles on my internal world. Much damage had been dealt and numerous swords are currently irrecoverable. A vast majority of them could be recovered from my memories or had additional copies created when Angra Mainyu attacked. Some of them were deformed and degraded but still functional.

I pick up a twisted piece of steel that was a high quality Schiavona from a museum somewhere. It was considered a masterpiece sharp and strong enough to cut through other swords, but it had no other significant properties. I quickly straighten out the blade and restore its edge using structure copied over from the undamaged portion of the blade and where that fails, I copied pieces and concepts from other similar blades. And when I finished, the blade was almost new. To the best of my knowledge, I have never used this sword but it was still part of my collection. And my memories were disoriented enough so that perhaps the blade had some other forgotten importance. Then I move onto the next broken blade. Time is meaningless here. Sometimes I delved into my faulty disordered mind to retrieve a memory to retrace a blade from scratch. And sometimes I go into the history of the blade to replace the damaged parts with the untarnished records. Looking outward, I see many other damaged swords repairing themselves in a similar manner following the example of my actions. Fewer and fewer blades required my personal attention to be restore back to peak condition. It was like CAD or photoshop, most details could easily be altered or repaired using the right combination of skills and recording those steps makes processing similar blade near instantaneous. However, sometimes losses were permanent.

The gem sword zelretch stood alone cracked and broken in an irreparable manner. The mighty blade that I would have liked to have kept was now useless except perhaps as a piece of research. The blade had become like a puzzle, one with half its pieces missing. I lack the necessary knowledge to reconstruct the weapon. It had been recorded into my world at some point but I cannot remember ever using it. Without that memory, I cannot reconstruct it. But perhaps if I ordered my memories then...

_Static..._

The killing of Shirou Emiya.

Before this, I had been killing Shirou Emiya.

The static that had continuously bothered me, stifling my thoughts, finally ceased. But I continued stumbling onwards.

I see. As a result of paradox, the world has been rewound. Rewound to the point Shirou Emiya came into existence. But this was a problem, I still existed, therefore I was not yet free of my contract. The world had not wanted to lose a counter guardian so it crammed all of Shirou Emiya including his 6 year old self. It was troubling. I had wanted to disappear completely but it seemed my existence represented a crucial juncture and was necessary to the world in some appointment. Most likely, I was needed for the role of 7th Master in the Fuyuki Holy Grail War. In simple terms, Fate likes to screw with me.

Was there any way to escape my contract with the world? The rewind would mean I do not exist in the Throne of Heroes... yet. However, if I die now, I would immediately ascend to the Throne of Heroes with the world's assistance. My deal with the world was mainly for the purpose of 'being a hero' specifically reaching the Throne of Heroes. If I could reach that goal through my own power and ascend without assistance from the world, the deal would no longer apply. But if I fail to ascend to the rank of hero without borrowing the world's assistance before my death, I would once again become a Counter Guardian. Fortunately, the assistance rendered to me by the world last time around would no longer count because this time those events have not happened yet and will never happen if I can help it. I am not that person nor will I ever be. Thus those non-events will not elevate me to the Throne. The option to use the world's power to defy fate is still there but so long as I defy fate on my own, I can nullify my contract. Any upgrade that carried over from the future-that-will-never-be would be a freebie of sorts unless I fail to become a proper hero on my own. I guess I am once again stuck on the path of becoming a hero but this time, I don't have a choice. Well, I do have a choice but I will not choose to spend eternity as a Counter Guardian now that I know what it entails. I didn't even make a selfish wish! If I want to be picky, I didn't really have a choice in the future-that-will-never-be either. But at least I know what I need to do this time even if I don't know how to go about doing it.

Considering the current world, it is considered impossible to become a heroic spirit anymore. Actually Chuck Norris could have probably ascended if he actually managed a few of the things attributed to him. And the nameless hero Emiya could have probably ascended if he ran a better PR department. Except there were rules that prevent magi from revealing magic, thus a large part of the difficulty. If Emiya could openly use magecraft without attracting attention, he could become a hero. But Emiya cannot openly use magecraft. Frustration tightened its hold on me as I wonder how I would manage to ascend in a world full of monsters equal or greater than myself. Dead apostles and True Ancestor Princess. The Queen of the Clocktower and the Burial Agency. A ridiculous power would be required to achieve my goals.

Situations like this are the story of my life. And people wonder why I am so cynical. Well, I really cannot help it. It is a trait that has been ingrained after an eternity as a Counter Guardian. Fate is fickle and Irony is a driving force of the world.

And then I tripped. Up until this point, I had been inundating my mind with various thoughts but mostly concentrated on my own problems because I am trying very hard to ignore the death surrounding me. My eyes barely peeked out from under the cowl of the red shroud draped over me. I can barely keep myself from committing suicide by trying to help those already beyond hope. It is in my nature to save others. And my younger self would attempt to do so regardless of his own life. But I cannot afford to die here. My death could potentially create another paradox or even worse, make me into a Counter Guardian. And then there is the green patch inside of me. A quiet desire to live that probably belonged to Shirou the six year old boy.

But this time, I cannot stop myself. After tripping, I got up and looked around. Within a few meters of me, was a human. Not a deformed dead corpse beyond salvation but a real living human who was still breathing. They were shielded from the worst of the heat by cement and a burst water pipe. The rapidly evaporating almost boiling water took a portion of the heat with it. The person was curled up in fetal position as if minimizing their exposed surface area. At very least their body still wished to live. Their magic circuits must have activated in response to the atmosphere of death. But the person would not escape without help. Their skin was already hopelessly blistered and a majority of their hair lost. The person looked younger than himself and was barely more than a toddler. Their mangled body probably stopped here because they lacked the strength to go on. Last time, they probably ended up under the church to feed Gilgamesh.

Gilgamesh! I suddenly remembered. The king of heroes was still alive. Kotomine was still alive. I cannot escape by merely running and being rescued. Kotomine was out there ready to collect anyone still alive. I could probably defeat him if I project enough weapons but I cannot match Gilgamesh in my current state. The only way to survive is to find my father, Kiritsugu.

And the person in front of me, I wanted to save them too. No matter what, I will not allow them to end up under the church. It was a small miracle that the person was found by me rather than Kotomine and now I understand how Kiritsugu probably felt when he found my six year old self still alive amongst the flames. The sheer relief and absolute need to save that person. It was like receiving salvation myself. I had never quite felt like this until that moment, even with the millions that I have saved.

And so I reinforced my body to the limit and picked up the person piggyback style. For a moment, I was treated to vivid green eyes so bright that they seemed to glow. And then the person expelled a breath that almost sounded like "thank you" and lost consciousness once more.

I have already decided. With my current body, I can only save one person. I doubt I could find another 'human' anyways. This will be the person that I save and this person will be my salvation. Because I knew everything else is hopeless.

After securing the child to me, I wrapped the burial shroud around myself and my passenger and then the two of head once again head out into the heat.

We wandered back towards the park. I walked and walked trying to stay away from the worst of the heat while reinforcing the burial shroud to its limits. Because I needed to find Kiritsugu.

Not too long after, using structural analysis and my memories, I managed to locate the man. He wasn't the best father or teacher and he was only a shadow of the great magus killer, but he was still _my_ father.

Upon seeing me, his joy was definitive. It seemed a great weight had lifted from his soul and he ran towards me with all his strength. His steps were unsure but they contained a strength that hadn't been there a moment before. I shucked the shroud off and lifted my passenger towards him. Our eyes met and I tilted my head towards the child. If my throat had not been so parched, I would have said something. For a moment he hesitated, but not very long. He had once been the magus killer. And he decided to save the girl. After all, if I could still walk, there was always a chance I could survive without Avalon.

Avalon. I had forgotten. For a moment there was a flicker of familiarity. And then Avalon was safely sequestered in the child I had carried. The some of the energies Saber left behind was expended as the girl healed before my eyes. Her blistered skin quickly became smooth and whole. Her hair grew back and the girl's breathing smoothed out as she fell into an easy sleep. I felt like I had gained something precious. And yet there was a profound sense of loss. Not having Avalon meant there was a chance I would no longer summon Saber. My memories of her and her presence, I could almost feel it inside me still...

The three of us, the girl, Kiritsugu and I ended up at the hospital not long after. I barely remembered the trip back because my young body had grown tired under the strain of my continuous reinforcement and the projection. The shroud wasn't a sword after all. I collapsed the moment I arrived at the hospital.

I eventually woke up to find Kiritsugu hovering next to me. The girl I rescued was in the adjacent bed soundly asleep. It took some time but after finding out that I had no living relatives or memories from before the fire, Kiritsugu offered to adopt me. The memories of the six year old Shirou had been wiped clean because that was the moment Shirou Emiya had been born and also the moment my memories from the future-that-will-never-be arrived. But the emotions of that six year old were still stamped onto this body and my soul. It was that patch of greenery that I worked so hard to protect.

Suddenly I realized it.

I was alive and I was free.

Even though I was still bound by my contract with the world, at the moment I could make my own choices. I could change fate with my foreknowledge. The potential for salvation is there. Both for myself and many others... like those girls. _And I can finally take a freaking vacation. _ Looking at the girl in the adjacent bed, I decided that at very least one person's fate had already been changed for the better.

If only for that then my continued existence remained worthwhile.

**A/N: Anyways, you'll probably find out about her eventually so... the OC girl is Seo Akina... err... Akina Seo... yes she's related to Seo Akira and Seo Shizune. I really like them. And yes, she'll stay around because the records were all destroyed and Kiritsugu doesn't know about the Seo family in Misaka. The reason the Seo family in Misaka doesn't know or find out about Seo Akina... they don't keep in touch. Akina's family were closer to the other side because they possessed strong dormant magic circuits and stronger mystic eyes. They provided fortunetelling for both humans and non-humans. She does have a role in the plot but it might not come into play for a while. About Archer's memories, they happen to be incomplete, he copied some data from the Records but he also lost a bunch of his memories and swords to the taint of the dark grail. It would be too cheap to allow Archer Gem Sword Zelretch, so it and pretty much all information from Heaven's Feel is forgotten. He does remember Sakura needs help for some reason but at the moment he's more likely to think she needs help because Shinji is a jerk. We're starting at 6, so no need to worry about pairing for quite a while. Next chapter is "Emiya and Kotomine".**


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